


Shuttered Windows

by checkmyshoe123



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blindness, Depression, First Time, Gen, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmyshoe123/pseuds/checkmyshoe123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike can't help but thank Rick Sorkin for being a dick.</p><p>At least he can boast about being a blind lawyer now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme prompt:  
> Inspired by all the prompts I have seen with Blind!Harvey.
> 
> What if Mike had been either born blind or lost his sight after a particularly harebrained scheme of Trevor's (or whatever the anon wants to happen really)? In any case he has had time to adapt/ learn braille/ etc. He gets disability checks but they aren't enough to keep his grandma in a nice home. He wants to improve her quality of life so he studies law books and goes to a bunch of interviews. Nobody has even considered him until he went to the Pearson Hardman interviews. He impresses Donna and then has to do the same with Harvey. 
> 
> From that point on it is up to the anon. Mike in the office . . . During a case . . . Suit shopping . . . I mean anything . . .  
> http://suitsmeme.livejournal.com/3323.html?thread=4923899#t4923899

Mike's lost. 

He's too proud to admit it, but he is hopelessly lost. He's been wandering around the lobby for at least half an hour trying to find Trevor who said he'd be here at 5:00 dammit and he still hasn't shown up. Trevor had promised that they'd go out for drinks later (mostly because Trevor was probably looking to sell some pot and not just have some friendly bonding session - Mike wasn't stupid enough to pretend otherwise) but he still hasn't shown. The amount of people passing through the lobby (more than usual) disoriented Mike and after a side trip to the bathroom he's been in a daze. 

"Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!" 

The slightly out of breath voice is accompanied with pounding footsteps and the distinct rattle of a briefcase. Mike turns slightly towards the source of the noise, his dog's nose bumping his leg as his companion turns to eye the stranger as well.

"...Um, me?"

"Yeah," the guy pants, the footsteps slowing to a stop and eventually the guy drops his briefcase to the floor with a dull thud. "Yeah, look, I gotta...gotta ask you a huge favor."

Mike furrows his brow. "What is it?"

The guy's silent for a moment, the fabric of his clothes rustling as he straightens himself up. "I've got this job interview in...fuck, in five minutes, but I'm going to be late for another ten because I've got to run and sort out some shit with my ex. Could you please, _please_ tell the scary-looking secretary that I'm late because, uh...my car broke down?"

Mike kind of stares. Well, not really, but is the guy really stupid enough to not realize that the guy he's talking to is wearing dark sunglasses and has a guide dog on a harness next to him? Also, no one drives around here, in this nice area where all the upscale hotels and restaurants are located. Whatever. Mike decides to humor the guy. "Sure. Where is it?"

The guys lets out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh thank _god_ , yeah, the room's 2311, up a floor and to the left near the end of the corridor." The guy's suitcase rattles again as he picks it up and Mike is surprised to feel the handle being pressed into his palm. "Take this with you and leave it in the waiting room." He whispers conspiratorially , "my ex doesn't exactly know that I was in law school - she just thinks I'm some rich punk from Boston." Mike can practically hear his wink, and he nods in response without saying anything and the footsteps hurry off down the hall.

After asking some of the hotel staff, he finds his way to the room. He plans to tell the "scary-looking secretary" that he's dropping the suitcase off for his friend Rick, who was running late due to traffic. What he doesn't expect is for an angry-sounding female voice that harshly demands "Rick Sorkin? Rick Sorkin? Excuse me, Mr. Sorkin, you are five minutes late. Is there a reason why I should let you in?"

"Uh..." He furrows his brow. "Well, it'd be sort of tacky to not let in a blind dude."

There's an awkward silence before she responds in an even tone, "Mr. Specter will see you now."


	2. Chapter 2

After a momentary lack of orientation the woman (smells like cinnamon) places an arm on his back and leads him down a turn, where his hand is grasped by another hand (cold, smooth, soft) and is given a handshake (firm, curt, to-the-point) while being pulled down a hallway and into a room. The door clicks shut softly behind them and Rufus tugs him forwards and he finds a chair to sink down into.

"Make yourself comfortable." A man's voice. Mr. Specter's voice.

Mike coughs nervously a couple times, fiddling with the briefcase's latches while Rufus squirms on the floor. He (Mike and the dog) isn't used to being somewhere so nice and classy, and he can practically smell the dust off of the expensive (too expensive -- the price of it could probably feed him well over a couple months) carpeting. 

"So...Rick Sorkin. No one told me you were blind." There's humor in his voice. Even without seeing, it's obvious he's smirking.

Mike laughs nervously. "Yeah, uh... Long story, but I'm not Rick Sorkin."

"I got that." He shuffles through some papers. "Now tell me, why the hell are you in my office?"

"Rick told me to tell you he would be late, and he gave me his briefcase to drop off, so I --"

"Yeah yeah yeah," Mr. Specter interrupts. "I could honestly care less that he's late. Punctuality is important for any job interview, especially for one in such high demand such as this one. Let me tell you, kid, he's not getting hired."

"Oh... Uh, okay. What's this job even for?"

"A position as my associate at Pearson Hardman. It's a law firm, if you didn't know."

"No, I've heard of it." Mike scratches the back of his neck. "It's weird, actually. I'd just taken the bar before, well..." He motions to his eyes. "Never got a chance to be a lawyer."

"Why not?"

Mike's startled for a second. No one's ever bothered to ask him that before. He laughs again, but this time it's bitter. "No one wants to hire a blind lawyer." 

Mr. Specter is silent for a long time, seeming to mull something over before he taps a pen on the surface of the desk. "How good are you?"

"...What?"

"I said 'how good are you?'"

Mike blinks. "I don't..."

"You passed the bar, didn't you?"

"Full score."

"C'mon, you're smart. 'Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors including --'"

"'Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves.' What's your point?"

"Look kid, I need to hire an associate, and I swear to God that if another one of those Harvard douches so much as even _walks_ through that door I'm going to shoot myself in the face. I need someone who's smart, fast on their feet, and quick-witted with a quick mind. These freshly-pressed clones all have rods up their asses. Are you following me?"

Mike slowly nods. 

"Good. I'll give you twenty-five grand just as a signing bonus, and starting a week from Monday you'll be my new associate at Pearson Hardman. Sound good?"

"But, um --"

"But what?"

"You don't even know my name!" he blurts out. "You don't know what school I've been to, where I'm from, my past employment records, you don't know anything about me!"

"Are you saying you don't want the job?"

"I..." he wavers.

"This isn't elementary school. This is hard work. Long hours. High pressure. But you don't get to the top without those things. Kid, I'd hate to see any wasted potential."

"...Alright," he says in a weak voice, head reeling at the sudden turn of events. 

"I'm emailing the firm now to tell them I have our next associate. I'll talk to the IT department to get you some reading software. Buy yourself some nicer suits and I'll see you next Monday."

As Mr. Specter stands up, Mike rushes to do the same, Rufus already by his side. Mr. Specter leads Mike to the door, a steady hand on the small of his back. As Mike's about to exit the room he turns to the older man.

"Mike Ross."

"Pardon?"

"My name, Mike Ross."

There's an odd feeling Mike gets when the man responds, "Harvey Specter. Welcome to the firm."


	3. Chapter 3

Mike doesn't have much trouble adjusting to the firm's building. Everyone there (for the most part) is tidy and a lot of the junior partners (well, mainly Louis Litt) are sticklers for making sure that everything's in an orderly place, so nothing really gets moved, making life much easier for Mike to adapt. Within the first week he knows the layout and locations of all the offices and cubicles on the floor and quickly learns the positions of all the printers, fax, and copy machines in what he has dubbed "the loud cranky room" for multiple reasons. There's an awkwardly placed pot with a plant in the corridor by one of the junior partner's offices that he almost always stubs his toe on, no matter how hard Rufus tugs on the harness. 

Harvey has already gotten the reading software installed onto his desk computer and there's an expensive scanner for any hardcopy documents he gets. Mike's always been great with computers, even before he lost his sight, and after taking several night classes at the Orientation Centre for the Blind and Visually Impaired, he's almost as adept as he was previously. Highlighting and typing notes in the word processor gets a little tedious at times, but Harvey is a lot more patient than he lets on.

Mike doesn't get to go with Harvey to meet clients. He always pesters the older man to take him, and eventually Harvey just snaps and pushes him out of his office. "No offense, but they don't want a blind kid with a puppy dealing with their multi-million deals." No offense? Sure, yeah, _no offense but you're a dick._ Mike huffs and gathers his dignity from outside the shut door. Donna's probably staring at him, but he walks past her without a word. He tries to slink his way into Rachel's office but the door's closed there too and he can feel his mood already starting to deteriorate. He kind of stands dejectedly in front of Rachel's door, not quite sure if her office is glass too. He can hear muffled voices from inside, Rachel and another woman, and after a while the door clicks open and a wave of perfume hits him as the woman leaves. 

"Hey Mike, I was just talking with Janet. What's up? Wanna go grab some lunch from that little corner deli?"

Mike blinks and stands there for a moment before his brain finally processes her words. "Oh yeah, sure. Let's go." 

The rain isn't too bad but Rufus still whines the whole way over and when they finally get to the deli Rachel laughs as Mike and Rufus both shake off water droplets.

Mike's only known Rachel for three and a half weeks but they act like they've been friends for years. They tease each other and go out for lunch together (usually Rachel dragging him to try weird-ass places). Today, though, they eat quietly, almost like Rachel can tell he's not in the mood for any conversation. Rufus is napping under the table, the rain making a soft _pitter patter_ as it beats against the ground. They sit in companionable silence, sipping at their drinks until Rachel's voice makes him jump a little. 

"Mike, are you alright?"

"Sure." His answer is short.

"No, really. Mike, c'mon, don't bullshit me."

Mike wearily rubs a hand over his face. "Look, Rachel, I really don't want to --"

" _Mike._ "

Mike shuts up.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. It's okay. I'll walk it off, it's not a big deal."

"Mike --"

"Look Rachel, I appreciate what you're doing, but I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

There's a long pause. "If there's anything --"

"I know."

They leave it at that.


	4. Chapter 4

Mike ignores the faux pas for a long time, and so does Harvey, and eventually they get to a point where neither of them particularly care, even though Mike hesitates before going in Harvey's office and Donna's a little colder towards the older man. Soon enough they catch a huge case, a merger between two well-known hotel chains, all hands on deck, and Harvey acts a little calloused but it's all due to nerves... at least Mike hopes. 

It's not until after the entire case has blown over and the entire firm's at a restaurant celebrating that Mike gets a chance to talk to Harvey privately. Usually he lets things pass, unresolved, but there are some things that need to be said.

"Harvey, can I talk to --"

"Not now, kid." 

Alright then.

Mike wanders away from the bar where Harvey's sitting, looking for (in a loose sense of the term) Rachel, who said she was coming late due to some paralegal-y thing she had to do. Rufus pulls incessantly on the harness, probably eager to lead Mike to the source of that amazing aroma of beef and garlic sauce and cilantro and a hint of chili--

"Mike! There you are! Let's grab a table. Seriously, these heels are _killing_ me..."

He willingly obliges. The dining room is packed with people and it's so cramped to walk through to the point that Mike keeps unexpectedly bumping shoulders with people, making him start and usually trip over haphazardly placed chair legs.

He slides into the side booth while Rufus sinks to the floor beside him. 

"Have you noticed how Rufus has this weird blotch on his back? I just noticed it's kind of shaped like Scandinavia, at least if you squint hard enough..."

Mike scrunches his nose up. "I've always wondered... What color is Rufus? No one's ever bothered to tell me. I know he's a mixed breed, but otherwise I have no idea what he looks like. Floppy ears, drools a lot. Annoyingly long tail. That's all I know."

Rachel's startled into momentary silence. "Where did you get him? Didn't they tell you what he looks like when you got him?"

Mike shakes his head. "The Orientation Centre I went to was pretty poorly funded but when I got Rufus they'd just received a massive donation that helped start their guide dog program. I guess they didn't think too thoroughly about it. The place wasn't run very well, but it was the only place I could afford to get lessons from while I was unemployed and without health insurance."

Rachel frowned. "But still, don't they have trained professionals who know about this stuff?"

He shrugs. "The place got shut down a couple months ago. They weren't doing very well."

There's a long awkward silence and Mike shifts uncomfortably in his seat while Rufus huffs as if he knows what the two are talking about. He hears her sigh over the general din of the restaurant.

"He's kind of a pale yellow, but he's got this brown patch of fur on his back. I don't think that's natural, but whatever. I don't really know anything about dogs."

Now the silence is _really_ awkward. They sit and wait for food to arrive while Rufus fidgets under the table, occasionally leaning against Rachel's legs and pressing his warmth against Mike's. 

After dinner and a few (read: several) drinks, Rachel departs. Mike sits in the booth, idly swirling around the liquid in his glass as he hears chairs scraping the floor as people slowly trickle out of the restaurant. He's distracted by the sound of people's drunken footsteps and loud laughter and is startled as a wave of expensive cologne and peppermint assault his senses. 

"Harvey?"

The other man sets his drink down heavily on the wooden table and a couple drops splash onto Mike's hand, startling him. 

"So, a couple weeks ago..."

Mike raises an eyebrow. "Wait wait wait. Hold up a second. ...Donna told you to talk to me, didn't she." It isn't a question.

"She might have...mentioned it in passing..."

Mike grins. "What did she do, threaten to knee you in the balls?"

He can practically hear the grimace in Harvey's voice when he responds, shifting in the booth. "Something like that. She also threatened to reschedule with an OCD client."

There's a few tense moments when neither are sure what the other man is going to do when Mike blurts out, "I didn't mean to be so pushy and I know I was being really obnoxious" while Harvey begins by saying "Look, I was a little stressed during the time and I may have overstepped some boundaries" and they both laugh a bit as their words jumble together in a confusing mess of what can only be called verbal diarrhea...not a good trait in a lawyer.

They talk for another couple of hours over cool glasses of scotch before they decide to call it a night and Mike's pretty sure Donna's lurking about, watching them leave while he feels the warmth of Harvey's hand on the small of his back.


	5. Chapter 5

Even before the “incident,” Mike has always been late. He was born late, he started school late, he got up late, he was late to class, he was late to puberty, he was late to job interviews, he was late to work, he was (fashionably) late to parties... He was chronically late all his life. So when Harvey finally snaps after five months of seeing Mike appear at his door looking harried and somewhat disheveled, it was no surprise to Mike.

The conversation goes down like this: Harvey makes a comment about late night romps, snarks about his tie and stubble, and quickly shoves his associate out the door before Mike can even get a word in edgewise. 

Perturbed, Mike leaves in a state of confusion. “What was that about?” he asks Donna. She momentarily pauses in her clacking on the keyboard, probably to give him a look of pure exasperation as she heaves a long-suffering sigh. Mike stands there and waits, but the clacking resumes and so he heads back to his cubicle.

Two days later Mike finally figures it out.

He’s typing up notes for a brief on a case Louis handed to him earlier that morning and in his concentration and the earbuds stuck firmly in his ears, he doesn’t hear Harvey’s approach until something slams down on the desk in front of him and he flinches violently back in his chair, inadvertently pulling the earbuds out and letting them drop to the floor. 

The somewhat familiar scent of Harvey’s cologne is the only warning he gets when feels a hand suddenly grab his arm and tugs on it so he leans closer to his desktop. “What...” He becomes silent when Harvey’s larger hands cover his own and guides his fingers to a small box.

Mike furrows his brow. “What is it?” he asks as he lightly taps a finger against one side. It’s hollow.

“Just open it.”

It takes Mike a moment to find the latch and he clumsily fumbles for a moment, but then the box is open and he’s reaching inside and he feels... “Harvey, what...?”

“It’s a watch, Mike.”

“But why --”

“Well, seeing as you’re always late to work and you don’t own a watch, I decided that with my shiny degree from Harvard, I could put two and two together and figure out what the correlation was between the two. So yeah, I bought you a watch, so now you have no excuse.”

Mike slips it on his wrist. It’s a little loose but he can probably adjust it later. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a gift, it’s a necessity. The necessity being you being here on time because otherwise I’m gonna dock your pay. Got that, newbie?” 

“Yeah,” Mike responds after a moment of silence, before realizing that Harvey’s footsteps are already halfway out of the room.

He plays with the strap on the watch before resting his fingers on the glass face. He taps it a couple times, fingers searching for something, until he finds a latch on the side that pops the glass up, exposing the hands underneath. Little dots signify different times, and he can feel the hour and minute hand. Smiling to himself, he closes the lid and adjusts the watch.

Yeah, Harvey _totally_ cares.


	6. Chapter 6

Mike wakes up screaming.  
  
His heartbeat thuds in his ears, his breathing ragged as he gulps and tries desperately to draw in air as he sits up abruptly in bed, the blankets tangled around his legs. His shoulders heave and his hands tremble and he shakily rakes his hands through his hair.   
  
After a couple dizzying moments he lunges and blearily gropes for the clock situated on the bedside table. It takes him a couple tries but eventually his fingers find the button on top and he smacks it loudly, almost knocking the clock off the table as an electronic voice calls out “The time is now four, twenty, seven, a.m.”  
  
Mike breathes, then falls back into bed.

 

* * *

  
“Rachel.”  
  
“Hi, Donna.”  
  
“We need to talk.”  
  
“Why, what’s up?”  
  
“It’s about Mike.”  
  
“What about Mike?”  
  
“Have you seen him today?”  
  
“...You noticed it too?”  
  
“ _Honey._ ”  
  
“Right... What do we do? Talk to Harvey?”  
  
Scoff. “Bless that man but honestly when it comes down to it, I don’t trust him to get through to Mike. He’s too proud to admit he cares.”  
  
“So...”  
  
“We can’t just spell it out for him, Rachel. We need to convince him to talk to Mike but let him figure it out on his own. Then he’ll run to us for help and everything will work out.”  
  
“But you just said -”  
  
“Harvey can’t get through to Mike if we tell him to. We’ll just...give him some bread crumbs, and when he figures out what’s wrong, he’ll feel smart and observant and he’ll run back to us when he ultimately realizes how emotionally stunted he is and how he cannot cope with the situation. Then we can make them talk it out.”  
  
Granted, it’s not the best idea she’s had, but it’ll work out. (Hopefully.)

 

* * *

 

To be honest, Harvey can’t help but feel a bit annoyed with his associate right now. Mike showed up late to work (even with the watch) and still hasn’t finished all the briefs yet, which means he clearly hasn’t been concentrating. Granted, he’s seen the kid maybe twice today, but it’s nearly lunch and Mike still hasn’t been by his office to hand in the briefs that should be done by now.  
  
“Donna...?” he calls out in a sing-song voice, mindlessly thumbing through some files.  
  
“What?” her voice buzzes over the intercom.  
  
“Where’s Mike and why isn’t he here?”  
  
He hears Donna snort. “Oh Harvey, suffering from separation anxiety already? I knew you were attached to the kid but not like  _this._ ”  
  
Harvey scowls even though he knows Donna can’t see him. “No really, where is he? I needed the Duvall briefs fifteen minutes ago.”  
  
“You  _needed_  them or you  _wanted_  them?”  
  
“Jesus Christ Donna, I don’t have time for this!”  
  
“Someone needs his coffee.”  
  
Harvey sighs once, loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “Donna.”  
  
“Magic word.”  
  
“...Please.”  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
Silence. “Well?”  
  
“Hell if I know where he is Harvey, it’s not like I have a GPS on him.”  
  
Harvey stands, slams his chair under his desk, and leaves the office, shooting Donna a look as she passes. She just raises her eyebrows and turns back to her computer monitor. “I really don’t know where he is!” she calls out after his retreating form.

 

* * *

  
He’s in the bathroom.  
  
His hands have been shaking and he hasn’t been able to concentrate on the briefs for the Duvall case even though he knows Harvey wanted them after lunch but in his defence he hasn’t even  _had_  lunch yet so technically he still has time before they’re due and he’s been feeling a little light-headed which he’s pretty sure is from the sleep deprivation after failing to fall back asleep that morning and -  
  
The door bursts open.  
  
“Where the  _hell_  are those files?”  
  
Mike gulps. “Not here?”  
  
He can feels Harvey’s angry gaze on him, so he’s surprised when the silence ends and Harvey softly asks, “You okay?”  
  
Shit. He must look awful if his boss is asking that. “Yeah, I just -” His throat closes suddenly and he can’t force anymore words out. Instead he swallows, turning his head away and blinking away the sudden (totally manly) moisture in his eyes.   
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Mike shakes his head. “I’m not -”  
  
“Mike.”  
  
The ridiculousness of the situation is catching up to him. Here he is hiding in the bathroom avoiding work and his boss walks in on him and he wants to cry for no apparent reason. “Harvey, please, I just need a moment.”  
  
A step closer. Mike turns his back away. “Mike -”  
  
“Please, just a few minutes at most. Please.”  
  
“...Mike?”  
  
“Leave me alone, goddammit!”  
  
Harvey leaves.


End file.
